I probably shouldn't admit this…

…as I'm giving a lecture on New Media next week, but here goes.

I don't understand the internet, and how people use it. Today I've had 212 visitors so far. The numbers have been going up all week, from a previous respectable average of 60-70 hits per day. These new readers are mostly in Europe, with a hefty number from the US, Africa and Asia.

Are they all entranced by my ongoing battle with Paul Uppal, MP for Paul Uppal? Perhaps it's my love of lovelorn lo-fi, or photographs of trees and badly-lit sports halls, or lists of books I've incontinently purchased.

It isn't. Virtually every new visitor is reading a short note I scribbled about the sad and ironic death of Spencer King, inventor of the Range Rover who came to despise the uses to which his practical vehicle was put, and who was killed while out on his bike. Nobody's leaving comments, but they keep coming.

Seriously, why do you think this is?

I am, you may have gathered, a non-driver. I once crashed a Volvo 340 into the back of a rubbish truck at Keele University, but I was only going at 4 mph and somebody else was changing gear, so no damage was done. I'm not anti-vehicle though. Given the choice, I'd like a luxury train, this bike (please, send me some money, it's only £15,000) and this car and this car, though they'd either be given cold fusion engines (still entirely imaginary) or just sit in my driveway as works of art. Although I don't actually have a driveway either.

The Moulton Stainless Double Pylon would always be my first choice. I'd die under the wheels of a guffawing roadhog, but I'd die in considerable, shiny, style. I've lusted after very few things in my life, but this is the one. Oh, and an airship done out in luxury steampunk style.

This is why I love cycling. My only vehicle is a 1970s racing bike in poor condition.